Moving On
by miss-maiaa
Summary: A blond man sits next to Gwen on her plane ride. Modern!AU


_"you fell asleep on my shoulder on the plane ride and i would ask you to move but you look so comfy and adorable when you sleep. also you smell really good and the feeling of your breath on my skin is somewhat relaxing, maybe we can go out to lunch in this shitty airport when you wake up?" au_

5:00 a.m. the alarm went off. A screeching, squealing noise emitted from the speaker on Gwen's beside-table clock and hastily she rolled around to slam her palm down on the snooze button. Jesus, did she have to pick the worst possible alarm? Then again, if she had picked something relaxing she would've slept through it – she always needed something annoying to wake her up or she would fall back asleep. A horrible defect in her DNA, of course, and she always went to sleep wishing she somehow woke up before the set time and wouldn't have to hear it for just one day. But she was a heavy, straight sleeper. She pushed herself out of bed and flicked on the light switch.

Her morning was a rushed yet sleepy one. She dragged herself about the hotel, packing up what clothes she had salvaged from Lance's house, making herself look decent and presentable, double- and triple-checking that she had her passport and airplane ticket and money and all important documents she had hidden in the drawers so hotel staff wouldn't steal them. She felt absolutely dreadful. She was probably catching a cold – the air conditioner in her room was horrible. She was shivering and freezing. After her shower she piled on a tank top, tee, and hoodie, and on the bottom she wore tights underneath her sweats. Before her last glance over of the room she made herself a quick cup of coffee and chugged it down while sitting on the edge of the bed, flipping through the channels. Maybe she was hoping that the longer she waited, Lance would have time to come and find her and take her back home to their… to _his_ home. But she knew it wouldn't happen. Eventually she shut off the television, slung her backpack over her shoulder and gripped her suitcase in one hand and headed out of the hotel.

During the drive to the airport, she texted her friend Freya along with her brother, Elyan, that her plane would arrive at the London airport at 8:00 pm that evening and she would take a cab to her father's house. They had both been so worried for her since the break-up – four years was a long time to spend with someone and to end it so quickly must have "taken a toll on her health". She continuously reassured them she was alright, and despite the fact that she was lying, they seemed to believe her. At least they did until she drunkenly texted them at three in the morning after too much vodka going on and on about everything that had happened and then the cycle began again. She clicked send on the fifth message that minute as the driver pulled into the airport parking lot. "Thank you," Gwen said as she hopped out of the taxi. She gathered her bags together and paid him. As he drove away she looked up at the building in front of her and sighed. This was it. This was really it.

It was too surreal, now. At the hotel she had the tiniest bit of hope he would come and find her. She got up every once in a while to just look through the peep hole and had always kept her ears open for the sound of a knock on her door.

But alas, one never came.

Lance was a good man. He was a very good man. He had always taken care of her, always treated her right, always made sure she was happy and happy in his house and happy with him. They had the best relationship of all their friends. They had hardly ever gotten into fights, and if they did by the end of the day they were kissing and making up. But things had been different for a while. He had come back from his trip to LA and things were really different. He hadn't cheated – she made him swear and he wasn't the type of person to do it, anyway – but something was off. He realized that there was so much more to do with his life and he was too young to be strapped down to one woman. Well, those weren't his exact words. He said he was "afraid that one day they would hate each other for restricting the others opportunities". So, basically, she was holding him back from getting out there and doing wild things. Things he couldn't do if he had a girlfriend to worry about.

Gwen had been living out of his house for three weeks now, getting things sorted out with her family back home. She went back once while he was on a road trip along the coast (she knew where he hid his spare key, because she had always forgot hers and needed one to get in so he made an extra) and taken back all of her stuff, shipping the big things to her dad's and keeping the clothes and other personal things she needed like her work stuff and her laptop. She left her TV but did "accidentally" smash it on her way out.

Now it felt real. It was finally settling it. A tear dripped down her cheek as she pushed herself inside, through the crowds of people saying goodbye to their families. She didn't get a goodbye.

At 8:30 she got onto her plane with a second coffee in hand, but she was expecting to finish it before the plane took off. It was a completely packed flight, which she did not remotely want. She had woken up to annoying squealing once already today; she didn't want to wake up to that again, especially if she couldn't snooze a baby. As she said this she felt bad, but she herself was in a bad mood and a bad situation, so she let it fly. But she would feel guilty about it later. Lowering herself into the window seat, she pulled out her phone again and sent a quick text:

 _To Elyan Marsh, 10/11/2013, 8:32 a.m:_

 _Leaving soon. Will probably be jetlagged for a couple days and grumpy, but I'll be at dad's when you want to come see me._

Five minutes later her phone vibrated in her pocket.

 _To Guinevere Marsh, 10/11/2013, 8:38 a.m:_

 _Okay, Gwennie. I'll be around tomorrow night. Stay happy (:_

Propping her laptop open on her lap, she looked out the window, admiring the wonderful view. Could she ever come back here, now that there would be a risk of running into Lance? Even if it was a one in a billion chance, it was still probable. Would she come back with her spouse when she was older? Kids? How would he react if he saw her? How would she react to seeing him? She was over-thinking. At least that's what Freya would tell her. She put one earbud in and chose her sad music playlist. What? She was a sap for that kind of stuff. The soft thrum of guitar began in her left ear as she turned her attention back to the front of the plane. As her brown eyes rested on the hostess who was getting ready to tell everyone about take-off, a blond man practically skidded to a halt in the space beside her. His hair was dangerously ruffled, his face was half-shaven, and his pea coat was absurdly crooked, the buttons done up wrong and the sleeves messily rolled up. He mumbled something to the hostess who he had jostled and began to walk down the aisle, scanning a slip of paper in his hand. When he saw his seat he slid into it; slid into the empty chair right beside Gwen. He put his elbows on his knees and placed his face in his hands, breathing heavily before pulling away. "Almost missed the flight," he informed her without making eye contact. "That would've been horrible." Untangling himself from his coat, he got up to put his things in the overhead compartment. As he lifted up his arms his shirt untucked from his pants and she could see a small portion of his stomach and his happy trail. She looked away.

"Arthur," he said as he sat down again, holding out his hand. She shook it. "Apologies if I fall asleep – I am a loud snorer, or so I've been told."

Gwen nodded wordlessly and looked away from him, staring out the window.

Soon the plane was taking off and soon after they were flying in the air. Gwen wrote a little bit on her laptop before she got bored and put it away, eventually stripping off her hoodie (she made sure to do it while the man – Arthur – was gone so she wouldn't accidentally clock him in the face) and playing mind-numbing games on her phone. She didn't have the money to watch a movie or buy nice snacks, so all she had was a granola bar and an orange juice box. As tired as she was, she was afraid to fall asleep. She didn't want to wake up and find herself leaning on Arthur or cuddling him or something. She was a cuddler. And it would be embarrassing. They didn't talk for the first couple hours of the flight. Everything between them was quiet until he saw how little she had to eat.

"Is that enough?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's fine, thank you," Gwen said politely.

"Are you sure?" he replied. "Do you want me to buy something for you?"

She shook her head. "No, really, I'm fine," she told him.

He placed a hand on her leg. "I don't mind, you know. If you want a sandwich or something I'll gladly buy it for you. If you don't have the money."

A sandwich did sound good but she wasn't about to take this stranger's money. She shook her head again. "Really, I'm fine," she said and before he spoke again she added, "But I will keep your offer in mind." At this he smiled a cheeky smile and looked away from her.

It was about one in the afternoon when they interacted again. At first, she could barely notice what was happening. She could hear him breathing softly beside her, his head tilted back again the seat, his eyes closed and mouth hanging open. _He must've fallen asleep,_ she thought before looking away after having caught herself admiring his jawline and the hair at the nape of his neck. And over the course of the next few minutes, his head inched closer and closer, sliding down the back of his seat as he slept. She didn't notice this and didn't notice how close he had gotten until his head swiftly and rather roughly fell onto her shoulder – she was surprised it didn't wake him up, to be honest, his temple landed right on her bone. At first she didn't know what to do. Was she supposed to wake him up? Then she noticed how cute he looked when he was asleep and how adorably quiet his snoring was and decided it wouldn't hurt to let him sleep on her for a little while, could it? She felt an odd urge to run her hands through his hair, which was downy soft and beautifully blonde. Pushing away the temptation she looked away, fiddling with her thumbs in her lap. And then she began to feel his breathing, warm and light, on her arm and the space around it started tingling and her gaze returned to the top of his head, her breath hitching as his arm snaked through hers. Oh god. What was she supposed to do? She felt odd. She hadn't been this close to a man since her and Lance broke up… she tensed under his touch and shifted away.

His head was just barely resting on her now and even in his sleep he seemed to have noticed, for a moment later he moved closer to her, adjusting his head so it was no longer sitting awkwardly but instead rather comfortably in the crook of her neck. The scent of peppery cologne filled her nose and she tensed even further before winding up and letting out a monstrous sneeze, echoing through the cabin. Arthur jerked awake and his gaze flickered around before he looked at her. "Did I—"

Gwen nodded.

"I'm… very sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Forgive me, I… had a late night." He cleared his throat before turning away. She could see his cheeks turning pink as he did so and smiled to herself. Did she fluster him?

Hours past and the sky turned orange as the sun dipped lower and lower into the sky. They hadn't talked since the sleeping incident, and although it was so soon after the break up, she found herself wanting to talk to this man. Not that she would be devastated if nothing happened – what were the chances they would actually talk after they got off the plane – but it would be nice to have someone to talk to until her cab came. Even if he felt the same. Which he probably didn't. Gwen sighed to herself as she sunk lower in her seat, removing her phone from her pocket and flicking absentmindedly through the screens. She wanted to say something but couldn't find anything to say. It wasn't like this man was her soulmate, right? They had sat next to each other on a plane. That was it. And that was okay. She didn't want to force conversation – if it happened, it happened. And she so badly wanted it to happen…

"What brings you to London?" Arthur said quietly, looking up from papers he had retrieved from his bag a while ago.

"I'm moving back," Gwen responded, glancing at him. "I've been living here for about four years but missed my family and my dad and thought it would be best to come back."

"Any idea what you're going to do?"

She shrugged. "Get settled for a couple months and then find a job. Maybe go back to college, if that's what I need… I still have no idea what job I want to do when I grow up. I should probably start thinking about it, I suppose."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I would advise thinking about your future is a wise thing to do," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "What about you?" she questioned.

"What about me what?"

"Why are you heading to London?"

Arthur peered over at her. "My father is opening up a new banking branch in central London and wants me to oversee progress," he told her. "Pendragon Banking, perhaps you've heard of it?"

Gwen's eyebrows flew. "Arthur… Pendragon?" she asked. "That's you?"

He chuckled and nodded. "Yes, that's me," he replied.

Gwen looked away. "Well, I suppose your reasons for going are much more grandeur than mine," she said.

Arthur thumbed through business papers. "I suppose so."

The sky was as inky navy blue by the time their plane landed in the airport. With the second-farthest back seats in the whole of the plane, they had been waiting for twenty minutes before everyone in front of them got off. Arthur, the polite man he is, helped get Gwen's bags and things down from the overhead compartment even though he didn't have to and even though she could reach just fine. As they made their way up the tunnel from the plane to the terminal, he didn't say a word, although she could feel his eyes on her as she walked in silence, her own eyes flickering back and forth between the space in front of her and her phone which was being flooded with texts and other notifications. As Gwen made her way until the brightly lit waiting area she sat down and started texting the cab company she had decided on. Her plane had arrived much earlier than she expected, so she would have to book a new one…

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned around only to see Arthur standing there.

"You make a very comfortable pillow, you know," he said, hesitantly lowering himself onto the seat beside her. It was almost like he didn't know how this conversation was going to play out and to be frank neither did she.

Gwen giggled. "Thank you," she replied. "You are a very warm breather. My arm felt like it was on fire."

He chuckled. "What time are you leaving the airport?"

She looked down at her phone. "I told the cab company 8:30 but it seems that I need one to be here much sooner…"

Arthur placed a hand on her leg. "Or perhaps you could let me buy you that sandwich," he told her, blue eyes meeting brown. Her breath hitched in her throat as he continued. "There's a wonderful shop just a few minutes from here and a waiting area for you to stay in after."

Gwen nodded. "A sandwich sounds nice," she said, beginning to stand up. He followed suit, grabbing her suitcase in one hand.

"I can take that," she informed him.

"No, really, it's my pleasure." He gripped the handled and straightened, flashing her a cheeky smile. She pulled the suitcase away from him.

"You're already treating me to dinner, I don't need you to do anything else for me," she said.

"I suppose," he replied. "Come on, it's just over here…"

Gwen smiled to herself as she followed him down the hallway. To be honest, she hadn't even thought about Lance for maybe four or five hours. Maybe this was the best. She had always thought they were soulmates, but maybe she was wrong. And if she was it was good to have found out now, before they even had the chance to start to hate each other. And she will miss him and how he made her feel, but she had her whole life ahead of her to get over him and find someone else who made her feel the same. Actually, she had a sneaking suspicion that she had already found that person as she followed behind him, ready to be treated to a sandwich. And no matter what her future was, no matter what she did, she knew that this man was going to be a part of it.

After weeks of moping, Gwen had finally begun moving on.


End file.
